


The Law of Coincidences

by letsreadsomepoetry



Category: TSV - Fandom, Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Brett Yang Centered, Caring Syakirah, Fluff, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Med student Brett Yang, Mentions of Death, Shy Brett Yang, Violinist Eddy Chen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29593794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsreadsomepoetry/pseuds/letsreadsomepoetry
Summary: Brett keeps coming across this weird man who seems to be following his path on earth. Could it be a coincidence?
Relationships: Brett Yang & Syakirah, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	The Law of Coincidences

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> It's me again! I actually have a lot of motivation to write at the moment, and I hope you'll enjoy this story. I really liked the idea of Brett and Eddy randomly running into each other (kind of cliché) and Syakirah being Brett's best friend. After everyone seems to write about the dynamic between Eddy and Zach, I wanted to write something that includes Syakirah. Hope you'll like it! This one is based on a writing prompt I found on the internet by searching "writing prompts" (creativity am I right, kids). Leave a comment if you want to. Constructive criticism is always welcome!
> 
> Have a lovely day/night/whatever <3

_**Write a story about someone who keeps coming across the same stranger.** _

Raindrops thrummed against the big windows of the small coffee shop. People rushed inside to look for a warm and dry place, to escape the weather. Those who had to leave hid under colorful umbrellas, which dotted the world outside.  
Brett hurried inside, no umbrella in hand. His dark hair was wet, and water dripped onto his shoulders. A coat, darkened from the water, loosely hung upon him. Struggling with the heavy fabric, he removed his jacket and walked towards a table in front of the windows. Next to the table was a radiator, hidden behind a wooden covering. A little plant had been placed in the middle of the table, along with the menu. Brett sat down and fiddled with his clothes before a waiter came to him and asked for his order. "Coffee, milk, no sugar, please," he said. The usual. To be perfectly honest, he had never been a fan of those fancy drinks or the liquid they tried to call "latte,” when in reality, it was just a weird mixture of something sweet with foamed milk.

As he sat in silence, lost in the soft music and his studies, which were now widely spread across the table, a man entered the café. Cold October air flooded the room, but it faded as soon as the door closed again. Brett shivered. His hair was still wet, his body not warm yet. Automatically, he buried his nose in his oversized sweater. He looked up to see who had been the cause of his discomfort. The man, who had just stepped inside, was tall, and he seemed to be in a hurry. His eyes restlessly searched for the waiter, who had, just a minute ago, disappeared into the kitchen. Hence, no one could serve him, which seemed to stress him out even more. On the man's back was a black violin case. The polished surface mirrored the lamps on the ceiling. Small light bulbs reflecting back from the shiny, black violin case. Curiously, Brett kept looking at the other man. He wondered whether he had a rehearsal or a class to attend. His age had to be close to Brett's. The man's brown hair shimmered lightly, and even though he was visibly not in a good mood, energy and vitality radiated from him.

The moment passed quickly. Brett lowered his head and continued to read about anatomy and medical procedures. He had never actually dreamed of being a doctor. But after his brother's death, he had felt that he had to do it. Their parents had always wanted them to be successful in life, to live how they wanted to, without having to worry about money.  
His brother had started med school three years ago. But one night, when he was out with his friends, drinking and partying after a big exam, the accident happened. It was supposed to be a night of celebration, but it soon became a night of horror and fear. Walking back home, his brother had crossed a road. The traffic lights were already shut down. A drunk driver failed to notice him and ran over Brett's brother. He died at the scene. There was nothing anyone could have done.  
Brett shook himself out of the sad memory and tried to focus on his work. “Keep yourself busy,” everyone had said. “Don’t think about it too much.” But it had never worked. He disappeared into a whirl of Latin words, preparation questions, and medical files.  
The stranger in the shop was forgotten.

Brett knew that he was late for uni. He had missed his alarm that morning because he had been plagued by insomnia the night before. Now, Brett was running to the campus, hoping he would manage to slip into his class, unnoticed by his professor. Too busy thinking about the time and how he would be stared at by his fellow students, he failed to see the man crossing the campus. Brett's bag hit the ground, a loud thud echoed over the place. The buildings reflected the sound. Coffee flooded the concrete, the now empty mug rolled sideways. "I'm so sorry. I really didn't pay attention," Brett said as he bent down to gather his things. He thought that the other person had left because there hadn't been a reply, so he focused on his papers, books, trying to save them from the liquid on the ground. A second hand appeared in his field of vision, and Brett looked up confusedly. The stranger from the café was bending down as well and helped him to pick up everything.

Brett smiled at the other man, whispering a small "Thank you." as the brown-haired stranger handed him a stack of paper. "No worries, man," he answered, and his lips curled into a smile. It sounded like they knew each other like Brett was one of his friends and not a complete stranger who had just bumped into him. The man had dark brown hair, black eyes that glimmered in the sunlight, and was Asian, just like Brett. He noticed that the man had a double eyelid on one eye and a single one on the other. His asymmetric face made him look even more beautiful. Lightly crooked teeth appeared between his lips as he smiled.  
All of a sudden, Brett remembered why he had been running and said frantically, "I'm sorry again, but I really have to go. I'm already late." The other just nodded and waved at him as Brett quickly turned around.

Because his class had a mandatory attendance, Brett's late arrival was, of course, noticed by the professor who didn't miss the opportunity to lecture all of them about the importance of punctuality. Brett felt like he was in High School again.  
He forgot the stranger when his class continued. Clouds of wisdom surrounded him now, and he had to pay attention if he wanted to pass his impending exams. Word after word filled his paper and colorful highlighters pointed out the key-points. "Why were you late again?” his friend Syakirah asked him during their lunch break. "Couldn't sleep and then slept in," Brett said, shrugging his shoulders. They were walking to the nearest bubble tea shop to buy something to survive the rest of the day. "That has happened a lot lately," Syakirah said quietly, her eyes filled with worry. "I know." There wasn't anything to add. She knew it anyway, so why should he try to hide it.

"Let's go out tonight. Just the two of us." The excitement was audible in her voice. "I can't. I have to study. I've got an exam in two weeks." Brett hated to turn her ideas down. A night with a friend would be great, and it might actually lighten his mood, but he didn't have the time. At least he didn't allow himself the time. "No, I'm not having any of this right now. You look horribly stressed, you don't sleep enough, and you don't eat enough. If you don't take care of yourself, Brett, I'll do it. We're going out tonight. I'll pick you up at seven." The persistence in her voice caused Brett to nod quietly. He knew he couldn't argue with her, and if he was honest with himself, she was probably right. November was near, and it was getting cold in Singapore. Brett's mood always dropped when the weather changed. And combined with the stress of studying, he really felt as if he had been robbed of energy. Syakirah lightly shook his shoulder. "Brett, wake up. What boba do you want?" They had already arrived at the shop, and Syakirah was about to go inside. _What would I even do without her?_ Brett thought to himself, and he was grateful to have such a caring friend. "My treat!" he suddenly said and smiled. "Where did that come from? Anyway, I don't decline a free boba! Just get the usual," she laughed, and Brett forgot that he had been sad just a minute ago. Syakirah really had the power to make people happy. Her confidence and understanding nature made him forget his own sorrows for a while. Brett entered the shop, and the bell above the door chimed.

At home, Brett dropped all his belongings at once. The day had been rough. He had had a lot of classes, and now he was drenched in exhaustion. If he had a bathtub, he would take a bath, but sadly his small apartment wasn't furnished with something like that.  
As the hot water of the shower ran over him, the tension bled from his body. Steam filled the bathroom, misted over the mirror, and burned out his thoughts.  
Syakirah was on time, as always. She picked him up and told him about the plan she had already made for the evening. “First, we’ll go to that restaurant you keep talking about, but where you've never actually been. Then we’ll try out that new bar and drink a bit. Lastly, I prepared a movie at my place. Sounds like a plan?" she asked that question only to show him that he had a choice. But he knew that all her plans were perfectly arranged, and she never failed to distract him. "I don’t have a say in this anyway, do I?” Brett asked her with a cheeky grin on his face. “Of course you don’t. But you love my plans, so you’ll follow along,” Syakirah laughed and shook her hair. “That’s true.” Brett would follow her everywhere. After all, she was his best friend.  
They’d met in their first semester of uni. Syakirah had been a music student with a major in voice. They would never have met, but due to poor management, she had been given the wrong timetable. It had sent her to the faculty of medicine. She had looked so out of place that Brett had asked her what she was searching for. She had told him that she was a voice major and that her new timetable was probably false. Brett had laughed and had helped her to find her lecture hall. Now, one and a half years later, the two of them were together every day and were practically inseparable.  
The restaurant was bathed in warm light, the furniture was dark, and a few exposed lightbulbs hang from the ceiling. There weren't many people inside, and as Brett and Syakirah entered, a waiter immediately welcomed them. Syakirah told him that she had reserved a table for two, and the man showed them where to sit. It was comfortable inside the restaurant. The tables were decorated with a single flower on each of them. Shiny cutlery and white napkins had been placed on each side of the small table. Quiet piano music hovered through the air accompanied by the chatter of the few guests.

They ordered their food, talked about everything and nothing, enjoying each other’s company. Syakirah told him that she had a concert coming up and that her hands started shaking every time she thought about it. And Brett described to her that his exams caused his nights to be even more sleepless. Because when he was not studying, he was worrying.

After dinner, they went to the bar Syakirah was talking about earlier. It was a nice little place off the beaten tracks of the city. Colorful lights shone inside, and the bar glowed in red and blue. Brett ordered a GinTonic because this was basically the only drink he liked and that his body could cope with. He was quite sensitive when it came to alcohol, so he mostly avoided drinking together. Syakirah was quite the opposite. She loved to go out and dance with her friends, drinking, partying, having fun at a bar or a club. Brett often despised the music because pop wasn't really something he paid attention to. But in this bar, a pianist and a violinist were giving a live performance. "This is literally _the_ perfect place for you, Brett. It is a bar where they often play classical music. It's new and not very popular, but I thought that you'd enjoy it. Maybe even because it's quite empty." Her smile was warm like hot chocolate and at least as sweet as said drink. "It is wonderful. Their playing is amazing. Listen to the violinist. He sounds so good!" Brett was amazed by the music before he even saw the musicians.

When they turned around a corner and entered the part of the bar where the musicians were playing, Brett's breath got caught up in his lungs. The violinist was the exact same man he had been running into over the past three weeks. He was wearing a white shirt and tracksuit pants, his hair was falling into his eyes. His hands elegantly moved as he played the instrument. "Are you falling in love?" Syakirah asked with a grin. She nudged his shoulder and shook him out of his amazement. "No, but I've run into that violinist three times now. It is pretty crazy," Brett said, but he still couldn't take his eyes off of the man. "Really? That is actually funny! Maybe you're made for each other. Go talk to him after his performance. And hey, now you even have a legitimate reason to stare at him. You can always say that you were just amazed by their music." Syakirah laughed loudly, and her mocking undertone didn't go unnoticed. "Shut up. I'm not talking to him!" Brett said emphatically, shaking his head. "We'll see about that," she answered mysteriously and raised one of her eyebrows.

They sat down together near the musicians, so Brett could watch the performance properly. Syakirah’s hair shimmered in the colorful lights, and her dark eyes sparkled. Brett always thought she was mesmerizingly beautiful, but she was more of a sister than anything else. After Brett had lost a sibling, she was almost filling the hole his brother’s death had ripped inside of his chest. Now, she was looking so pure and glowed like a puddle with gasoline in the summer sun.  
Brett turned his eyes back to the musicians. Now that he had the time to look at the stranger, he felt weird observing someone he didn't know. But again, he wasn't a complete stranger, right?  
The performance was over before Brett even noticed it. People clapped loudly, and he found himself clapping too, even though he had no idea what he was doing. He stared too long at the man, trying to find out what the special spark was. Maybe it was the way his hands moved on his instrument or the passionate look in his eyes or the vitality that seemed to hover around him.  
Brett watched the two musicians disappearing in the back of the bar. "So, ready to take a step? Go, ask him for his number, or tell him how beautiful his playing was," Syakirah cruelly disrupted his thoughts. "I can't do that. I can't just approach a stranger --"  
"But he isn't a stranger. You've met him before. Now go, he's coming back. If you excuse me, I'll be in the ladies’," she grinned widely, clearly making fun of him and his awkwardness around new people. The brown-haired man didn't sit down at the bar or walked toward a table. Instead, his feet brought him closer and closer to Brett. He began to sweat. Why was he coming towards me? Brett asked himself and wished to shrink down to the size of an ant, so he could crawl into a corner and hide.  
"Hey, I keep running into you. First the café, then uni, and now this. Maybe I should introduce myself. I'm Eddy. And who are you? We might run into each other a fourth time, and it would be nice to know at least your name." His voice was soft, but there was a mocking undertone, no doubt.

Brett's head clicked into automatic, and he told him, "I'm Brett. Brett Yang." He had learned that this was the very minimum of words he had to say to a stranger who just asked for his name. Eddy smiled, exposing the crooked teeth. "Nice to finally meet you properly, Brett Yang."  
Syakirah hid around a corner and peeked at the two of them. _This could actually work,_ she thought to herself. Maybe Brett Yang finally found the person he needed.


End file.
